Arrow Fire and Healing Rain
by Ravlia
Summary: Skolla Lifa has returned to her home country of Skyrim after being away for twelve years. She wants to get back to her family, but civil war, dragons and a ton of other adventures tend to make that impossible. UlfricXOC/Dragonborn Rated T due to blood and what not.


Chapter 1- Helgen (part 1)

The Nord woman sighed as she looked out from between the trees and brush she was crouched behind. She was finally back in her home country of Skyrim after twelve long years of being away. The woman was happy to be back in the colder climate of the north, for she had not felt at home in the southern, warmer countries. She was happy to be home, but nervous at the same time. Would her family remember her? Would they happily welcome her back into their home? Were they even still around? She shook the thoughts from her head as she stared back out at the path she was watching.

Her eyes watched the cobble and dirt path, having heard foot falls earlier that sounded like an army. She didn't know if they were coming or going and her best bet to avoid them was to stay hidden. She decided against it and slowly crept out of her hiding place to look down the path. She saw nothing and turned her gaze to the other side, once again nothing was in view. Readjusting the pack on her back, she decided to follow the path down a hill. It took a sharp bend and when she reached it she saw what appeared to be a camp. She quickly ducked into some nearby bushes, wary of the camps inhabitants.

Carefully and as quietly as she could, the Nord crept closer to said camp. Her curiosity was getting the best of her has she started to hear the drone of many voices. She stopped just shy of two Imperials who were merrily chatting away over some drink.

"This war will finally be over!" One spoke to the other. There was war in Skyrim? She quelled her thoughts as the other Imperial spoke up.

"Yeah, but those left over rebels will still fight. Hopefully not as much though, since we do have their leader in binds." He took a swig from his bottle of ale.

"More so when their leader's head is on a pike." The first spoke. They clinked their bottles together and drank merrily. The woman couldn't help but sigh to herself. Here she was, home after all these years and her country was at war. She turned on her hell to go back to the path, but a twig under her foot snapped loudly.

"You hear that?" One of the men turned in her direction and spotted the Nord. She cursed under her breath and took off running. "Halt!" The same man shouted as they both gave chase.

She darted between the trees, keeping to them so she wouldn't be in the open if they had archers on her. She took a glance behind her to see that they were falling behind, due to their armor weighing them down. The Nord couldn't help but laugh at her luck and darted into the underbrush nearby. She tried to still her breathing as she rested her back against a fallen tree.

Adrenalin was rushing through her veins as she willed her heart to stop its restless drumming on her ribcage. She couldn't contain her excitement at out running trained soldiers, so she let a jovial laugh pass her lips. The joy was short lived however as a throbbing pain erupted on the base of her skull. She slumped forward in agony, looking up at the canopy above and the Imperial soldiers before her vision darkened.

He watched quietly as two guards rushed off into the forest after something he could not see. Minutes passed and the two Imperials stepped from the trees, holding between them an unconscious woman. Her hair was untamed, hung into her eyes and was as dark as the earth after a rain storm. She was dressed in common attire and had a bag on her back; a traveler coming at the wrong time. He also noticed that there were no weapons attached to her.

The soldiers lugged the woman into a nearby tent, where all he heard was rustling, a few mumbles and more rustling. He then saw them drag the girl back out in rags and missing her knapsack. They threw her to the ground where he and his brothers-in-arms were bound.

"My Jarl, do you know who that girl is?" One of his soldiers asked, to which he shook his head. He could not reply verbally due to his mouth being gagged.

"She doesn't look like one of ours, and she must not be with the Imperials since they bound her." Another of his troops whispered.

"Must have just crossed the border and didn't know what she was in for." A third mumbled.

"Enough with the chit chat, rebel filth." A few Imperial soldiers made their way over to their captives. "All of you to the carts. Now!" one of them muttered as he hoisted the unconscious woman up to throw her into a cart.

The Imperials then came back to the small rebel escort, grabbing a man with straw colored hair and a braid on the right side in front of his ear. They threw him into the same cart with the woman, and then came back for him to do the same. They put one more captive into the cart, a man that had tried to steal one of their horses.

When the soldiers had their captives in the carriages they started to move out toward their destination. As the wagon lurched forward, the riders were thrown back slightly. The female's head collided with the Jarl's shoulder, making him look quickly down at her. He was sure that she was a Nord due to her facial features, and could even see a tiny scar running over her left eye. She was still out cold but seemed to be resting peacefully. He tried to shrug her of but she wouldn't budge.

Glancing over at his companion, he motioned for him to help remove the girl from his personal space. The blonde nodded in understanding and tried to get a hold on the girl with his bound hands. He managed to move her slightly, but her body seemed reluctant to move as when he did shift her, she would fall back into her position against the Jarl's shoulder.

"Sorry, sir, seems like she's stubborn even when unconscious." He sighed. The Jarl mumbled through his gag, though no one could understand him. He decided to watch the surroundings go by slowly as the cart dragged along the path.

I felt extremely groggy and a pain in the back of my head when I was waking up. I also felt the creaking movement of a wagon under me as well as fur on my cheek. My neck was slightly stiff so I knew I wasn't in a comfortable position. I sat up and slowly started to open my eyes, the bright light from the sun glaring off of a few patches of melting snow making me squint.

"Ah you're awake." I turned my eyes in the direction of a blonde haired man, sitting across from me in the wagon. His hands were bound in front of him and he wore brown leather armor with a blue sash wrapping around one of his shoulders and ending at his hip. "How exactly did you get captured?" He asked, mildly interested.

"Well… I had just come across the border, got curious when I saw the camp of Imperials and kind of eavesdropped." I responded in a quiet voice. "I didn't know Skyrim was at war."

"They may think you a spy now." He replied in a kind voice.

"I only thought that after they noticed me." I released a mirthless chuckle. "So what are you-"

"Damn you Stormcloaks!" A man in our cart grumbled. He was dressed in rags with dirt covering most of his exposed skin. "Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

His gaze turned to me, making me bite my lip at the crazed look in his eyes. "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!"

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The blonde frowned.

"Shut up back there!" The Imperial carriage driver hissed over his shoulder.

A few moments of silence passed before the thief spoke up again. "What's his problem?" His gaze was directed to the man sitting beside me that I hadn't noticed.

"Watch your tongue!" The blonde seemed to actually hiss. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion… But if they've captured you… Oh gods! Where are they taking us?" The thief's eyes seemed to bug out even more.

"I don't know where we're going," The blonde sighed as he turned his gaze to where the cart was headed, "But Sovngarde awaits."

I took the pause between their words to look over the man on my right. He had dark blonde hair with two braids at either side of his head, and deep green eyes. He wore fancy black leather armor with a black fur gracing his shoulders. As well as being bound at his wrists his mouth was also gagged. When I was coming to I had felt fur against my cheek and now it made sense. I had been leaning on the man's shoulder while unconscious. I felt my face heat up with embarrassment and turned my gaze to my feet.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" The blonde asked the man beside him.

"Why do you care?" The thief muttered out like a child that didn't want to go to bed.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He smiled in a kind manner.

"Rorikstead… I'm from Rorikstead." He looked behind the cart with a distant gaze.

The cart approached a gate, and the blond man had a sad smile on his face. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilad is still making that mead with juniper berries." He shook his head as if to clear the memories from his mind. "Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe."

I heard a few voices around us as the cart drove through the fort town. Soldiers were talking to one another and going through some kind of preparations for the 'prisoners' in the wagons, a man was telling his son to go inside the house to keep his child innocent from what was about to happen. The cart we were in pulled up next to another one, which had more people in it, dressed in the same armor as the blonde Nord.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief stuttered out.

"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting." The blonde sighed.

"No wait! We're not rebels!" The Rorikstead man shouted.

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The other Nord shook his head.

Ulfric was the first to step out of the wagon, followed by the thief, myself and the blonde. The thief started shouting that he and I weren't rebels, but I tuned him out due to his whining getting on my nerves.

"Step toward the block as we call your name." A female Legionnaire instructed. Beside her was a Nord dressed in the usual Imperial garb holding a book and quill.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The Nord Legionnaire called, to which the broad shouldered man at the head of our small line walked toward the block.

"It has been an honor serving you, Jarl Ulfric." The blonde stood straight, as if wanting to salute.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Imperial Nord called, his eyes seeming to sadden. The blonde, Ralof nudged me slightly, with a friendly smile before making his way toward the group gathered by the block.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." The list man continued.

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" The thief took a step forward before taking off into a sprint toward the gate.

"Halt! The female ordered.

"You're not gonna kill me!" Lokir continued to run.

"Archers!" The female called, to which men stationed in a nearby tower took aim and shot the man to his doom. "Anyone else feel like running?" She looked over whoever was left standing in wait.

"Wait, you there," The man with the list pointed at me. "Step forward." I did as I was told and looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"Skolla Lifa of Kynesgrove." I stated proudly.

"You picked a bad time to come home, kinsman." His eyes seemed to soften. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list," The female seemed to be in a bad mood now due to the thief. "She goes to the block."

"By your orders, captain." The Nord replied before turning to me. "I'm sorry, but at least you get to die here, in your homeland." He closed the book, using the quill as a marker. "Follow the captain, prisoner." As the woman walked toward the block, so did I.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero." A higher rank Imperial man spoke to the gagged Nord. "But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos! Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace!"

A distant sound, like a roar, halted everyone for a brief moment, making the female captain ask, "What as that?"

"It's nothing." The man who was making the speech to Ulfric stated after a minute. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" The captain saluted before turning to a priestess. "Give them their last rites."

"As we commend your souls to Atherius, blessing of the Eight Divines-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." A Stormcloak soldier interrupted as he stepped up to the block.

"As you wish." The priestess seemed put off as she walked a distance from the block, leaving just the captain and the headsman in place.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning." The man hissed before being pushed down to the block. His head was turned from me, facing the headsman, but I knew there was a smile on his lips as he spoke again. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" His question went unanswered as the headsman brought down his axe, severing the man's head from his shoulders. His head fell into a basket on the other side of the block as his blood seeped into the wooden slab.

"You Imperial bastards!" A female's voice called.

"Justice!" A man yelled.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" Someone else roared.

"As fearless in life, as he was in death." Ralof mumbled sadly.

"Next, the Nord in the rags." The captain called out. I looked around before looking down at myself. Seemed it was my turn on the block. My nerves were racing, and my mind was telling me to run, but I held it in as I took a small step forward. The strange roaring sound reached my ears once more, this time it sounded closer.

"There it is again." The list man looked toward the sky. "Did you hear that?"

"I said NEXT PRISONER!" The captain growled. I stepped forward with a sigh.

"To the block, nice and easy prisoner." The same list man spoke softly. I walked to the block, feeling all eyes on me. I stepped over the headless corpse and knelt down before my head was forcefully pushed to the block. I felt the sticky, still warm blood of the last man cover my cheek and neck as I turned my gaze to the headsman. I glimpsed a large creature flying behind a tower that was erected behind said headsman.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Someone called out, also having seen the creature.

"Sentry, what do you see?" The captain called to a man up in the towers. The headsman raised his axe up above his head, but before he could bring it down the creature landed on the tower behind him. The beast was black as midnight, with sharp red eyes that found my own. With an ear piercing roar the sky shifted colors as flaming rocks started falling from it.

"Dragon!" Someone shouted as my vision blurred.

A/N- So this was my first chapter of the first Elder Scrolls fic I've written. I hadn't gotten the chance to play any of the others before Skyrim, but I absolutely adore Skyrim. I derived Skolla's name from Sköll, the sun chaser in Norse Mythology, as well as used Lifa, meaning Life in Old Norse. I had her be from Kynesgrove due to something I have planned out later on. I hope you enjoyed this first part and I hope that you stick around for the next! Have a good day, and if you have the time, let me know what you thought!


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